


Final Exam

by Smirkdoctor (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Medical School AU, Unilock, let's learn about the prostate, sexy genitourinary exam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 04:20:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18909430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Smirkdoctor
Summary: Medical student John and willing patient Sherlock take things out of the office to practice the prostate exam.





	Final Exam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lyciuum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyciuum/gifts), [Ewebie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ewebie/gifts).



> This work serves as an epilogue to my multi-chapter story "Point of Maximal Impulse": https://archiveofourown.org/works/8229538/chapters/18859987 
> 
> It's not necessary to read that story to *enjoy* this one, but it is a fun retelling of the John/Sherlock meeting (and wooing) set during John's medical education. And, as it was written before S4 aired, you can see me making excited canon connections based on the episode titles we knew at the time.
> 
> This is a gift to my doctor besties Lyciuum and Ewebie, as the inspiration to finally write this thing arose at our underground medical panel at 221B Con this year.
> 
> I knew all this anatomical knowledge would prove useful someday. ;)

“Jooooooooohn.”

His study partner was whining.

His _boyfriend_ was whining.

John Watson, serious medical student, bit his lip to stop from smiling, stooped as he was before the naked groin of Sherlock Holmes.

“I see you, and I am disgusted by your lack of professionalism,” Sherlock hissed.

“Is that so, Mr. Holmes?” John snapped on a nitrile glove and reached for the tube of medical lubricant he’d stolen from his clinic that afternoon. “I thought I was behaving in an admirably professional manner.”

He struggled with removing the cap and the small foil seal while he listened to Sherlock huffing above him. “Really, Sherlock, I thought you were dedicated to your standardized patient role.”

He glanced up, considering the usually pale face, now featuring cheeks blazing pink under a disheveled head of curls. 

“Wasn’t it you who asked for this intensive session on the male genitourinary exam?” he batted his eyelashes innocently, knowing full well how much the man above him loved that.

Sherlock dropped his head back and moaned. It shouldn't be sexy, hearing John use medical jargon like this. But it was. Curse his dedication to science and his near-addiction to this small, rough-edged blond man positioned in front of his naked, half-hard cock.

John swallowed and moved his gloved left hand to hover over Sherlock’s scrotum. “Alright, love, I need to practice this part, too. Can I do the hernia check?”

Sherlock blew out a quick puff of air. For all the joking in television and movies, he knew that the “turn your head and cough” bit wasn’t a simple matter of the doctor coddling your testicle in his palm. There were _maneuvers_ involved, excess scrotal skin and gloved fingers and _inguinal canals_. He swallowed, met John’s upturned gaze, and nodded.

John tilted his head in response and moved his attention back to the matter, quite literally, at hand. His finger grazed over the raphe of Sherlock’s lightly furred scrotum, then his thumb and first two fingers closed gently over his right testicle.

Sherlock winced at the slight pressure and felt the last of his previously eager erection deflate. John’s gentle touch moved up and his fingers trailed lightly over his epididymis. Sherlock heard his own quick intake of breath and realized he was holding the exhale.

“You ready?” John whispered.

Sherlock nodded again, closing his eyes as he felt John’s hand drop back to the bottom of his right testicle. The sensation that followed was incredibly odd. John’s finger, while remaining outside his body, gathered loose skin and traveled up along the medial side of that testicle before settling snugly in a bit of empty space.

“Is this okay? Does it hurt?”

Sherlock opened his eyes and met with his boyfriend’s concerned gaze.

“It’s not… painful. It’s just...you’re _inside_ me.” He felt himself blush again, but didn’t look away. “It’s incredibly… _intimate_.”

John’s cheeks pinked as well, and he dropped his eyes for a second. He looked back up, the expression of mischief on his face enriched by the quirk of the left side of his mouth.“Let us get through this and we can be even more intimate, yeah?”

Sherlock sucked in a tiny sip of air at the intimation, and bit his lower lip.

“Turn and cough for me, love?” John didn’t break the connection of their eyes.

Sherlock obediently turned his head so his rapid exhale wouldn’t send droplets of moisture all over John. He tensed his abdomen, which he knew was the actual purpose here, and forced a short cough before turning back to look at John.

“Good,” his doctor nodded. He withdrew his finger and reached for the tube of lubricant. “Now turn around.”

*~*~*~* 

Trousers and pants around his ankles, bent forward with his elbows on his cluttered desk, Sherlock was ready for the prostate exam. He inhaled and exhaled on a four count and focused on relaxing.

But as John moved to part his buttocks and placed a lubed finger over his anus, he tensed. Maybe he wasn’t as ready as he thought.

He heard John shuffle slightly in the desk chair before making gentle shushing sounds, moving his right thumb in small circles where it held his gluteus to the side.

“Are you really _petting_ me?” Sherlock harrumphed.

John giggled, “Thought it might add something to my bedside manner.”

He pushed slightly against the external sphincter and Sherlock, caught mid-giggle, gasped as perhaps a centimeter of John’s gloved, slicked finger entered him.

“John.”

“Does that hurt?” The concern in his voice did quite a lot to help Sherlock relax, and the gentle pressure John was applying helped the finger slip further inside.

“ _Hhhhhnnn_ …” Sherlock rested his head on his crossed arms and arched his back slightly. He heard John gulp in a deep breath.

“I don’t think most of my patients will be trying that move,” John whispered, sounding slightly breathy. He applied more force and a slight twisting movement that had his digit slipping past the internal sphincter. Sherlock gusted out a soft moan. 

“Yeah?” John asked.

Sherlock nodded minutely. Then, realizing that John couldn’t see the motion from his seated position, he waggled his arse a bit, side-to-side.

It was John’s turn to moan as the motion, combined with more gentle inward pressure, helped his finger slip in to the third knuckle.

Sherlock felt a tiny oscillation deep inside. John must be searching out his prostate, but something wasn’t quite right. He wasn’t quite there. He felt an increase in the force against his anus, the blunt pressure of John’s clenched hand pushing against his entrance.

John swore softly and Sherlock felt the angle of penetration change slightly as he rose to his feet behind him.

“Damn short fingers!” John sounded exasperated and Sherlock tensed his muscles reflexively.

“No, no. _Shhhhhh_. I’m sorry, Sherlock.” John’s right hand was now under his shirt, stroking gently up his side, his left index finger now resting inside him, entirely still. “I’m mad at my own stupid anatomy. I never did get a good feel of a prostate in our standardized practice sessions.”

Sherlock felt suddenly jealous, indignant that another person with a prostate had been _penetrated_ by John’s small, perfect fingers. He shifted, bowing his back slightly more and turning his head to the side to catch John’s eye.

And just as their eyes met, Sherlock felt the most intense sensation deep in his gut. He saw a spark of recognition in John’s eyes, right before his pupils dilated.

Eyes dark, John started the small movements of his fingertip again. Sherlock opened his mouth, but no sound would come out.

“Guess I found it.” John murmured. He tapped-- _tapped!!_ \--at the sensitive bundle and Sherlock bolted in surprise, managing to put some noise behind his breath as his head dropped back forward onto his arms.

“John!”

He felt John’s small body bend forward, covering him, followed a small kiss at the base of his right ear. There was a slight, constant pressure on his prostate now, and the small flame of pleasure began to grow as John slowly withdrew then re-advanced his finger.

“Ohhhhhh, Sherlock. You’re so beautiful.”

Sherlock’s breaths became shallow, not yet panting, but it was a near thing. He turned his head, eyes still closed, and his lips searched out John’s.

They kissed tenderly for long seconds, Sherlock timing small, nibbling motions of his lips with John’s thrusting finger.

Then John shifted, pressing his groin against Sherlock’s upper thigh. John broke the kiss to groan, his voice as low as he had ever heard it. His head dropped against Sherlock’s shoulder and he laughed softly.

“Maybe we could… move.” He rutted once against Sherlock’s thigh, his growing erection just as evident as Sherlock’s, which was hanging stiffly between his legs, a small drop of precum at the tip.

“Hmmmmm?” Sherlock moved his hips back as John pushed his finger forward.

“You know… get a bit more comfortable. Stop practicing my bedside manner and work on my bedroom skills instead.”

Sherlock turned his head toward John again and opened his eyes just to roll them.

John leaned in for another kiss and rolled his hips against Sherlock again. 

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I, like John, have short fingers, and I can *never* get a good exam of the prostate during a check-up. Maybe if I had a willing partner and more time and privacy, though...


End file.
